Old Dad, New Rules
by Bookreader525
Summary: Jay Pritchett is a man in his sixties living in California with a 2-year-old son. Thornclaw is a senior warrior of ThunderClan with three newborn kits. What happens when two completely different worlds collide, and Jay and Thornclaw switch lives? Will the two old creatures discover the true meaning of being a father, at any age, or will disaster strike?


**Hey everybody, Bookreader525 here! You may think this is my first story, but it's actually not- I have another profile, emjwarriorcatz, which has three ****_Warriors_****-related stories. This story is a crossover between ****_Warriors _****and the TV sitcom Modern Family. So anyway, if you like this story then you'll probably like my other three on my other account, so please check those out as well! Please enjoy c:**

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Chapter One

_Jay Pritchett was a man of _much excitement. Each morning, he rolled out of bed, stretched, yawned, clomped downstairs and prepared his morning coffee. If he was in the mood, maybe he'd actually grab the paper himself rather than ordering his French bulldog, Stella, to do the job. Okay, so I'm being sarcastic- Jay, being in his so-called golden years, was not exactly known as the family's class clown. That was Phil's duty.

Recently, however, Jay's life had changed- and for the better, or so he assumed.

His second wife, Gloria, gave birth to his second son and third child: Fulgencio Joseph Pritchett almost two years ago. Called Joe for short and to avoid tongues in knots (after all, the first name was just to please Gloria's mother), Jay's son was a beautiful sight to the old man every day.

A few days before Joe's second birthday, Jay's life changed again- and this time, not for the better.

This particular morning, Jay roused at about 11 AM. When he lifted one sleepy eyelid and caught a glimpse of his bedside clock, he nearly had a heart attack. Then, recalling his still-too-soon-ago retirement, he relaxed and laid back down on his pillow.

He treated himself and slept in most of the day- that is, until his wife returned home, arms loaded with shopping bags.

"I'll _keel_ him," Gloria seethed as she set some plastic bags filled with groceries on the kitchen counter before stomping upstairs, some more bags overflowing with new clothes looped tightly around her forearms. "Jay!" she screeched.

Back in the bedroom, Jay started awake. Blinking rapidly, he snatched up his glasses from the bedside table and felt a serious twinge in his gut when he saw the time: 4 PM! He clawed at the sheets, which seemed to be coiled around his legs like snakes, and then slid across the carpet and into the bathroom.

"Jay?" Gloria's voice softened slightly when she saw the bathroom door closed and heard the grunts from her husband (who, unbeknownst to her, was just struggling with the shower faucet). "Jay, are you alright? Do you need me to get some prune-"

"I'm fine, honey," Jay cut in a little too sweetly. Somehow his tone got past Gloria, and she set her bags down on the bed. She took in the rumpled sheets; furrowing her brow, she placed her hand on Jay's side of the expensive memory foam mattress.

It was warm. Her anger bubbled to the surface again, and she spun, stalking over to the bathroom door and banging on it loudly enough for Stella to start barking downstairs. "Jay! Have you been napping?" she demanded.

"Oh, um, just a little, sweetie," answered Jay, who had finally remembered the correct direction in which to twist the faucet handle. Water spurted out of the faucet and gurgled into the drain. Jay winced when he thrust his hand under the stream. _Since when does our water supply come from the Arctic Ocean? _He couldn't turn the handle quickly enough to the hot water.

"Jay," Gloria tried to calm herself, but was unable. She took a deep breath and then asked, "are you _showering _at 4 in the afternoon?"

"Yeah... heh heh," Jay mumbled, stripping from his tee shirt and shorts. "I didn't have time to shower this morning, so I'm doing it, uh, now." He stepped into the tub and yanked the shower curtain closed.

Gloria put her hands on her hips and stared stonily at the bathroom door as if her eyes could melt wood. Finally she turned on her heel and yelled over the noise, "Next time, please take our son out of his swing, where he was _this morning_."

Not quite hearing what she said, Jay just called cheerily as he breathed the scalding steam, "Of course, sweetheart!"

**OoOoO**

"Thornclaw... p- please wake up," begged a silver tom with thick black stripes sliding down his pelt like paint.

"StarClan, Bumblestripe, what is it?" Thornclaw groaned, rolling onto his back. The golden-brown warrior used used to his sleep schedule, which had been renewed after he had been considered a senior _senior _warrior. Now he could sleep in late and come and go as he pleased. The ThunderClan deputy, Squirrelflight, wasn't required to put him on a patrol if he didn't want to. After all, Thornclaw deserved these privileges, being the oldest warrior in the Clan.

But there were some... _factors _that made him feel not-so-old.

"I went to visit all the kits, but then Blossomfall sent me to get you. She said you haven't seen your own offspring in days. Sorry to barge in, but I think that's a little-"

Not caring about what else Bumblestripe had to say, Thornclaw pushed past him and sauntered straight across the clearing to the nursery. He poked his head in and found Blossomfall nursing their three kits in a secluded corner of the den that was safely away from Dovewing and Bumblestripe's rowdy daughters as well as Foxleap and Hazeltail's wayward sons.

"Oh, it's a miracle, kits! Your father actually _does _care about you," Blossomfall meowed to the tiny three bundles of fur.

Thornclaw had never intended for this to happen. Blossomfall was seasons younger than him, and having kits at his age could be considered strange and a little weird. Deep down Thornclaw loved his mate and kits, but he'd never admit it out loud. He wanted to stay tough and guarded- but for who's benefit?

They had two toms and a she-cat. The first born was the she-cat, with pale golden fur. She was named Sunkit.

The second-born tom had a handsome ginger pelt. He was named Sparkkit.

The third kit born was the tiniest of all. His fur was a handsome dark chocolate brown, and his name was Earthkit.

They were only a half-moon old, and still too young to talk. In fact, they could barely function at all- they could only wriggle, mewl, and suckle.

Blossomfall lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at Thornclaw. "Aren't you going to say anything? Or will you just stare at them like they're juicy pieces of fresh-kill?"

Startled, Thornclaw babbled out a long, incoherent string of words: "I was just er um admiring your their beauty it was nothing I'm not hungry I am hungry but for mice not kits don't worry I love you goodbye." In the moments following his abrupt exit to the twiggy den and odd speech, he felt a stab of remorse. Then, staring at the sky, he muttered, "Why am I awkward around my kits? Do I really love them?"

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**... and that's that for the first chapter! PLEASE tell me what you think! All suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome. For example, should I add allegiances (for both humans and cats or just cats? And if yes, all four Clans?) **

**You might have noticed that Sunkit is a bit like Claire, Sparkkit is similar to Mitchell, and Earthkit, obviously, is Joe. Now Thornclaw's kits don't have any personalities yet, but soon you'll be able to tell who is who for sure in the story.**

**OCS ARE NEEDED!**

**Please feel free to offer names for the following:**

**Dovewing and Bumblestripe's kits (doesn't matter how many, though preferably two)**

**Hazeltail and Foxleap's kits (preferably two)**

**Also any others you want added in, just check with me first.**

**-BR/emj**


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